


A Soldier Named Miguel

by StaciNadia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, First Meetings, Full Shift Werewolves, Hurt Derek Hale, M/M, Mage Stiles Stilinski, Prince Derek, Roscoe is a Horse, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6322777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaciNadia/pseuds/StaciNadia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can't remember anything, only that he has an important message for the royal family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Soldier Named Miguel

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest fanfic I've ever written and completed! Whew! 
> 
> Written for the SterekAUFest, enjoy this royalty and amnesia AU!
> 
> I removed the Graphic Depictions of Violence tag because no violence is really shown, but there is some mildly graphic description of blood and injuries.

_Human screams and wolfish howls…_

_The sound of arrows being shot and the whoosh of swords being swung…_

_The muffled growl of wolves as they dug their teeth into the enemy…_

_The feeling of betrayal as the premise of meeting for peace was only a ruse…_

_The burning pain of several wolfsbane-tipped arrows sticking out of his chest…._

_The warm blood dripping from a large gash in his side…_

_Pain exploding in the back of his head…_

_And a pretty girl with dark curls and dimples saying, “You must live and tell the King and Queen what happened here! About my grandfather and Aunt Kate’s betrayal!”_

_He had to get back to the capital…_

**********

The Kingdom of Beacon Hills was a beautiful, verdant country. The capital city, where the royal family lived, was immense and was bustling at nearly all hours of the day. It was surrounded by a deep lush forest called the Preserve. The royal Hale family and many of the people of Beacon Hills were born werewolves, while the rest of the citizens were human and to a lesser extent other supernatural creatures. Many of the kingdom’s soldiers were born human, but given the bite for greater strength and healing capabilities. Born or bitten, they were all able to transform into great wolves, said to run around the Preserve on the night of the full moon. The humans of Beacon Hills were not afraid of the supernatural beings, who always protected the kingdom and its people.

Beyond the Preserve were smaller cities no more than a day or two apart. Then, closest to the borders of the surrounding lands were the farmlands. Tiny little villages dotted the map, which could be many days apart. It was in one of these villages that Stiles Stilinski lived.

The village that Stiles called home was so small that most adults there had more than one job in order to fill the needs of its people. For example, his best friend, Scott McCall, had been studying to be a veterinarian, but he chose to put that on hold when he turned eighteen to receive the bite and train in the Capital to also be a border soldier. Scott’s teacher, known only as Deaton, was not only a veterinarian, but also an accomplished mage who protected the village with his magic. Stiles was a student of Deaton‘s as well as an apprentice mage. He started showing he had the spark for magic two years prior when he was sixteen years old, but as magical studies were time-consuming and required a lot of practice, he had only just started progressing above beginner level magic. 

On the other hand, Scott’s mother, Melissa, only served as a dedicated nurse for both humans and werewolves and nothing else. Stiles’s father, John, was the head of the village’s border patrol. The bite had been offered to him when he first trained for the position decades before, but he wanted to remain a human. 

Stiles was usually alone at the Stilinski cottage. It wasn’t very large, like all the houses in the village. It had once held three people, but Stiles’ mother had died nearly ten years prior. His father had many responsibilities as the head of the border patrol and spent most of his time there, only coming home a few hours a day once Stiles was old enough to take care of himself and their small home.

He was tending to the few horses they owned in their stable right next to the house when he heard the gentle clip-clop sound of horses’ hooves slowly approaching. He stopped brushing Roscoe, his own beloved stallion that once belonged to his mother, gave him one last stroke on the head, and stepped outside. He saw Melissa and Deaton approaching the house. It looked like they were about to go on a journey, as their horses’ sidebags were packed with medical supplies and herbs, and neither of them dismounted off their steeds. 

“Stiles, we came to tell you we’re leaving for probably a few weeks,” Melissa explained. “It looks like a group of injured soldiers came to the next village for help. They don’t have enough doctors or mages who can heal, so they sent for help. Deaton and I are going to assist them. I don’t know how bad the injuries were, but I’ve heard that wolfsbane was used, so Argentum was involved.” She added darkly.

Argentum was the kingdom to the east of Beacon Hills, ruled by the Argent family. While Beacon Woods embraced the supernatural, Argentum shunned it and willing used plants poisonous to the werewolves and other supernatural creaturs.. Battles had been waged sporadically between the two kingdoms for decades. This was why the border soldiers like Stiles’ father and Scott were so important. 

“That means that you are the only one left here who knows some sort of healing,“ Deaton continued, looking at Stiles with sharp eyes. “If anyone in the village gets sick, you will be the one taking care of them. Consult your books and believe you can do it, and you‘ll do fine.”

Stiles nods. “You can count on me! I won‘t let you down!”

“We’re going to let your father know as well, and then we will ride off.”

Melissa leaned down and hugged Stiles goodbye, while Deaton gave him a nod. Then the pair galloped away toward the building in the center of the village that the border patrol used as a headquarters.

**********

The next day, Stiles was riding out through the fields on Roscoe when he saw something moving on the horizon. He stopped and watched the horizon closely for a few moments to make certain it wasn’t a trick of the light. When he continued to see motion, though, he spurred Roscoe on in that direction.

As he drew closer, he saw something looking like an armored human moving towards him. It didn‘t have a gait like a normal human, though. It limped and was slightly hunched over, as if it were injured. It occasionally stumbled but remained upright and continued moving. Stiles wondered if it was another injured soldier like the ones Melissa, Deaton, and the others were taking care of in the next village.

“Halt! Who goes there?” Stiles shouted out. 

The figure didn’t answer, just continued slowly limping its way towards Stiles. The stumbling was happening every few steps now, and the figure finally fell forward into the grass and remained still.

Stiles quickly steered Roscoe over to the figure and dismounted the steed to get a good look at the figure. The face, distinctly male, was covered with dirt and an unkempt beard, but it still held a hint beauty hidden beneath the layers of dirt. Ceremonial armor, which really wasn’t protective at all, covered broad shoulders, muscular limbs, and trim hips. Stiles shook his head. This wasn’t the time to ogle someone who was likely injured, considering the large amount of blood on the armor, particularly on one side at the waist. He took note of the large triskelion in the middle of the soldier’s chestplate, the emblem of the Hale family, marking him as a Beacon Hills soldier.

“Hey, are you awake there?” Stiles carefully shook the soldier’s shoulder, but there was no response. “Great, how am I going to get you home…?

He squatted down and tried to lift the soldier’s arm on his shoulder, but the man was incredibly heavy. Stiles could barely lift him a few feet. “Well, we’re never going to get anywhere like this…” he muttered. 

He closed his eyes and thought about what he could possibly use to lift this soldier and transport him back to his house when he suddenly got an idea. He made sure the soldier was left in a comfortable position, then clamored up onto Roscoe. “Don’t go anywhere! I’ll be right back!” he shouted as he spurred the horse toward his house.

At the house, Stiles leaped off Roscoe and rushed into the stable. He rushed around looking for something. He located a small wagon that was still big enough to carry a grown man and low enough that Stiles didn’t have to lift the heavy soldier up too high. He swiftly attached the wagon to Roscoe, making sure it was secure, then got up on the horse again and urged him on to where the soldier lay.

The soldier was still in the same position that Stiles had left him in, meaning the man likely hadn’t regained consciousness. Stiles lined up the wagon alongside the soldier. He lifted the soldier’s torso as best he could and placed it on the wagon. The soldier’s head lolled to the side, but didn’t stir. Then Stiles lifted his legs and pushed them onto the wagon as well, causing the soldier‘s body to move back further. Thankfully, his head didn’t hit the back of the wagon.

Not wanting to risk further injury to the man by moving too quickly, Stiles led Roscoe towards his house on foot instead of riding him. Even walking, the trip back was short. Stiles brought the wagon up next to the door, squatted down, and propped the man, who turned out to be slightly taller than him, up on his back the best he could. His weight thrown off, he stumbled into the house. 

The house consisted of a large main room with two doors leading to other rooms. In one corner was a table and three chairs. Another corner held the kitchen area with various cupboards with pots, pans, and cooking ingredients. Against the wall near the kitchen was a fireplace, a large pot for cooking sitting over the nonexistent flames. A slightly lumpy but still soft couch faced the fireplace. Stiles bypassed the main room and went to one of the two small rooms that branched off from it.

Stiles’ bedroom had a small bed, but most of the room was taken up by a desk and several bookshelves packed with all sorts of books. Feeling tired from carrying the man for so long, he moved as fast as he could to the bed and carefully lowered the man to the bed. He carefully removed the ceremonial armor and settled him comfortably in his bed. 

He gently moved the soldier’s shirt up to examine his wounds. He gasped as he saw the gash in his side. Red blood was still trickling from it as the wound was trying to heal itself but wasn’t succeeding. Several puncture wounds were on his torso, possibly from arrows. The puncture wounds and the veins around them were black. Stiles knew that was a sign of wolfsbane poisoning and that the soldier was definitely a werewolf. Stiles knew then that this man had been in the same battle that the soldiers that Melissa and Deaton had gone to heal had been in.

He perused one of the bookshelves, pulled out an ancient book of healing techniques, and started flipping through it. Within a few moments, he found the page he was looking for. He scanned the page quickly. “So he isn‘t going to heal no matter what I do with the wolfsbane still in his system…” he murmured as he finished the page and set the open book down on the desk. According to the book, the easiest way to rid the body of wolfsbane was to burn the particular species of the plant used and push the ashes into the werewolf’s body.

Stiles went back to the soldier’s side and examined his shirt and body for any remnants of the wolfsbane used. He groaned when his search proved fruitless. A string around the soldier’s neck caught his attention. He pulled on the string and found himself holding a small pouch. He opened it and gasped when he found a purple wolfsbane blossom. “I don’t know how you got this,” Stiles said to the unconscious soldier, “but I have a feeling it’s the right one!” 

He ran to the main room to get a small bowl and flint for lighting a fire.

**********

Stiles sank into a chair in the main room exhausted when he had finally finished cleaning the soldier’s wounds. The man had remained unconscious while he’d applied the wolfsbane ashes, but his body had arched up and his face had tensed as the ashes had worked their way through his body. Stiles had been frightened of the reaction, but he had held the soldier down with all his strength and murmured encouraging words to him even if he hadn’t been sure if the man would hear him. Once the soldier had stopped moving, Stiles had worked his healing magic to help speed up the werewolf’s own depleted healing. Finally, he’d cleaned him up a little with a wet cloth, put some salve on the wounds, and wrapped them in bandages.

There was a knock at the door, and then his father walked into the house. John Stilinski’s back was slumped and his eyes were tired. “How was your day, kid?” He asked, setting his crossbow down by the door and sitting at the table with Stiles. He raised an eyebrow at Stiles’ head resting in his hands and said, “You look even more exhausted than me! What happened today?” 

“I found an injured Hale soldier wandering the fields. He had wolfsbane poisoning and a big wound on his side, so I’ve been healing him ever since.” Stiles got up and quietly opened the door to his room, showing his father the man sleeping in his bed.

“You did good, kid,” John patted his son on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Stiles smiled. “Thanks, dad.”

“Come on,” John said with his arm still on Stiles’ shoulder. “Let’s make some soup. You can feed your patient some when he wakes up.”

**********

Stiles slept on the couch that night, his limbs akimbo under a thin blanket. He woke up not knowing where he was at first and promptly fell off the couch before remembering the injured soldier in his bed. He cracked open the door to his room to see the man with his eyes still closed.

After eating some porridge his father had left for him before he left for the border patrol, he went to his desk, picked out a magic book from the shelves, and began to read. He was so wrapped up in what he was learning that he almost missed a soft groan coming from the bed.

Stiles jerked his head up in surprise and looked at the soldier. He was looking slowly around the room with half-open eyes. “Wh…where am I?” he said in a rough voice. “What happened?”

That voice made Stiles want to shiver in a very good way, but he kept himself still. He looked at the man’s face instead and found himself lost in the most beautiful pair of eyes he’d ever seen. They were light and multicolored with shades of green, blue, and gold. He resisted the urge to just hide from embarrassment.

“Um,” he stammered instead. “I’m not sure what happened to you, but you had a lot of injuries, most of them with wolfsbane in them. And you’re in my house in our village. Who are you?”

The man looked confused. “I… I can’t remember.”

Stiles wasn’t expecting this. “Do you know where you’re from? Your family, maybe?”

“I don’t remember anything. Just…” The man closed his eyes and concentrated. “I have a message to get to the royal family. I must go at once!” 

The man made to get out of the bed, but Stiles put a gentle hand on his chest to keep him from getting up. Thankfully, his injuries prevented him from overpowering Stiles with his werewolf strength. 

“Hey, hey!” Stiles cautioned, his hand still on the man’s glorious chest. “You can’t leave yet! You were injured very badly, and you were hit by wolfsbane too. You could have died! You’re not going anywhere for a few days…”

The man sighed and settled back against Stiles’ pillow. “Who are you? I must not know you because you don’t know who I am…”

“I’m Stiles. I’m the son of the head of the border guards.”

“Stiles?” The man raised one bushy eyebrow. “That is an odd name.”

“It’s actually a nickname,” Stiles explained. “My mother’s family is from another kingdom far to the east from here, Polska. My name is a common one from that kingdom, but it’s very long and hard to pronounce by people here. Only my mother has ever been able to say it properly. So I go by Stiles. It’s a lot easier.” He shrugged.

“Stiles, then.” The man smiled softly, causing Stiles’ heart to melt. How was he ever to survive having this man in his house?

“Well, you know my name now, but I need to have something to call you,” Stiles said. The man only raised an eyebrow again in response. “Can you carry on a whole conversation with those eyebrows?” He smirked and waggled his own not-so-bushy eyebrows.

There was no response from the soldier, except that perhaps his eyebrow was even higher, so Stiles ignored it and tried to think of a name for the dirty yet handsome soldier. “I’ll call you Miguel!”

“If you insist,” “Miguel” answered.

**********

Over the next few days, Stiles stayed home and studied his magic, only going out to tend to the horses and ride Roscoe for a short time, while Miguel reluctantly stayed in bed. John was mostly out of the house as usual, but he greeted the soldier one evening when he was home. Miguel asked if John had known him, but the older man shook his head.

“I haven’t been to the Capital in years,” John explained. “If I ever did meet you, it was when you were younger and I don’t recognize you now.”

Miguel was frustrated with not knowing anything about himself, but he nodded his head in understanding.

For the most part, it was just Stiles and Miguel. Stiles had always loved to talk, so when he wasn’t studying, he told Miguel about his family, Scott, the horses, and the gossip around the village. Miguel surprisingly let Stiles talk on and on to him, and he even looked amused at Stiles’ neverending chatter. Stiles brought a mirror in one day, and the two washed Miguel’s hair and trimmed his beard so it looked neat and clean.

Eventually, Miguel got out of bed and walked around the house a little, sitting on the couch in the main room. Stiles had some novels as well as books on magic, so he let Miguel pick out some books for him to read.. The two sat side by side on the couch with the fireplace going, and it felt very cozy in the little house. Stiles felt happy getting to spend time with Miguel like this, and he tried not to think about the fact that someday soon, Miguel would have to leave to go to the Capital and probably never come back.

One day, Stiles was heading to the stable. When he opened the door, he just stood there in shock. Miguel was obviously feeling better because he was doing a series of pull-ups using the wooden frame of the stable as the bar. The muscles on his back were bulging as he lifted his powerful body easily.

When he finished his pull-ups, Miguel let go of the frame and turned to see Stiles, who was still gawking open-mouthed. “Stiles!” Miguel greeted him. “I feel so much better now. I think tomorrow, I can leave for the Capital!”

“That’s great!” Stiles tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You can take one of the horses in here if you need to, except for Roscoe. My dad has his with him.” 

“Thank you, but wait,” Miguel walked over to Stiles and tilted his head up slightly with a large hand to look in his eyes. “We still have today.”

The pair spend the afternoon wandering the village. They walked through the fields together, looking at the growing crops. They went to the market and looked at the various things for sale. Stiles saw Miguel looking at a book with interest, and Stiles went ahead and bought it for him.

“Stiles, you shouldn’t have done that,” Miguel protested as Stiles presented him with the book.

“It’s so you can remember me,” Stiles said softly.

Miguel’s sad smile in response showed that he felt just as disheartened by their imminent separation as Stiles did.

**********

That evening, John was patrolling overnight, so Stiles and Miguel were alone at the house. They lingered around in the main room, but eventually they had to go to sleep. The two of them removed their boots and Stiles watched Miguel climb into his bed. Before he could lose his courage, he blurted out, “Can I stay with you tonight?”

Miguel nodded and held up the edge of the sheet, and Stiles crawled into the bed beside him. There was barely enough room for the two of them, but they lay pressed up against each other. 

“This is nice,” Stiles murmured. Tentatively, he rested his head on Miguel’s chest. He felt a hand running through his hair.

He looked up at Miguel and saw him smiling at him. He was going to miss that beautiful smile. He was going to miss everything about this man who he knew next to nothing about.

Miguel reached out and touched his cheek. There was wetness on it, and Stiles realized that he was crying.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered. “I want to learn all about you.”

“If I can, I will come back,” Miguel whispered back. “I promise.”

“Just one kiss?” murmured Stiles, reaching out to touch Miguel’s cheek, bushy with the beard, and stroked it tenderly. “Please?”

Miguel nodded in response and the two leaned in towards each other. Their first kiss was soft and hesitant, just lips pressing gently against each other. As they separated, they smiled at each other and Stiles felt as though he were floating.

They remained wrapped around one another, gently caressing each other’s sides and faces until they fell asleep.

**********

The sun was shining through Stiles’ window as he blinked awake. He stretched his body out, feeling contented with the previous night.

He turned to his side to look at his gorgeous bedmate, but there was no sign of the man, only a folded piece of parchment on the other pillow. He picked it up and found his name written on the front. Suddenly, the content feeling was replaced by dread. He took a deep breath and with trembling fingers, he opened the parchment and began to read.

_My dearest Stiles,_

_By the time you find this, I will already be on my way to the Capital. My memories came back in the night, and with them the full message I need to deliver to the royal family. As it is of the utmost urgency, I needed to leave as soon as possible._

_I want to thank you for saving my life. I know that without you, I would not have survived all the wolfsbane inside of me. And your magic helped heal me when I couldn‘t heal myself.. Keep studying that magic of yours. That is a valuable skill that few possess._

_I do not know if I will ever be able to return here, as I am usually unable to leave the Capital. If I never return, I need you to know that spending last night in your arms was worth more to me than anything in the world. You will be in my heart every day, and I pray that you might think fondly of me as well._

_With love,  
“Miguel”_

He looked frantically around the room and noticed that Miguel‘s damaged ceremonial armor was gone, as well as the book that Stiles had bought for him the prior day. 

“No!“ He ran into the main room, crying out for Miguel. _Please don’t have left!_ He thought desperately as he continued outside to the stables, ignoring the painful twinges in his bare feet from running on top of rocks. _Please! I need to see you again one more time!_

He slammed the stable doors open, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily. Only the soft sounds of the horses could be heard. Stiles counted all of the horses, and not one was missing except for his father‘s horse. For a moment, it gave him hope that Miguel hadn’t left yet, but then he remembered that Miguel could transform into a wolf who could travel to the capital as easily as a horse could. Roscoe walked to the opening of his stall and whinnied, hoping for attention.

Stiles ignored his stallion and sank to the floor. He clutched the letter that he was still holding to his heart and trying unsuccessfully to keep the tears from falling down his cheeks. He was still there at midday when John finally returned home after his late night patrol.

**********

Stiles remained melancholy for the next few days. He didn‘t speak much, even to his father, who had understood the loss that Stiles was feeling. But his mood perked up when he saw two riders on horseback cantering into the village. They continued riding at a slower pace until they pulled up in front of his house. The two dismounted and the shorter of the two ran up to Stiles while pulling off his helmet, revealing a young man of Stiles’ age with an uneven jaw and a kind face.

“Scotty!” Stiles shouted joyfully. “You’re back!”

The two young men embraced tightly. “I missed you, buddy!” Scott said “How are things in town? How’s my mom?”

“She’s been in the next village during the past couple of weeks taking care of some injured soldiers,” Stiles responded.

Scott‘s cheerful face darkened. “That’s kind of why Isaac and I are here.” He indicated the other rider, who had taken off his helmet as well, revealing blonde curls and a youthful face. “There was supposed to be a peace talk with Argentums a few weeks ago, but they attacked us! We’re looking for Prince Derek. He went missing during the battle. The palace psychic says he’s not dead or in Argentum.”

A chill ran down Stiles‘ spine. “Um, what did this lost prince look like exactly?” he asked nervously. 

“Here, let me show you.” Scott reached into his horse’s sidebag and drew out a scroll of parchment. He carefully unrolled it and showed it to Stiles.

The parchment showed a bust-length sketch of a man with short dark hair, a fine chiseled face, and light dusting of stubble on his jaw. His eyes, the only point of color in the drawing, had a life to them that Stiles had seen only once in his life. He stared closer. Even though the prince was clean-cut and had fine clothing on, he could see Miguel’s matted hair and unkempt beard in him.

“Oh my god…” he murmured. “Oh my god! It’s him.”

“What’s him?” Scott asked in confusion.

Isaac, who hadn’t spoken before, ran over to Stiles. “Do you know where Prince Derek is? We need to find him!”

“I… I…” Stiles stammered. “He was here!” he said in disbelief. “He was horribly wounded… I tended to him! And he left, yesterday morning, for the Capital.”

Scott and Isaac were looking at him in shock. “Oh my God,” murmured Isaac. 

Stiles grabbed Scott’s arm and dragged him a bit away from Isaac so he wouldn’t hear. “I fell in love with him, Scotty,” he whispered despondently.

He knew now that there was no way that a prince would return for him. It would be foolish to continue hoping it could happen. Maybe if he had been a regular soldier, it could have been possible. The letter that the prince left had to have been his way of letting Stiles down gently. A prince could never be with a common boy.

“Oh, Stiles…” Scott hugged his friend tightly. “It’ll be okay.”

**********

It had been over a month since Miguel… no, Prince Derek, had disappeared from Stiles’ life. He was heartbroken, but he tried to continue his life the best he could. He continued reading his magic books, and occasionally wondered if Prince Derek had ever read the book he‘d bought him at the market. When Deaton and Melissa returned from the neighboring village after saving as many injured soldiers as they could, he continued his magical training with Deaton. He wanted to make the prince proud of him, even though it was extremely unlikely that Derek would ever find out that he’d continued training. He kept the letter under his pillow and read it every night. It was clear that Derek would always be on Stiles’ mind and in his heart, and he was content about it.

Scott was still in training in the Capital, though he and Stiles exchanged letters often. It was through one of his letters that he first heard about the second peace talk. There were more royal family members going to the talk this time, and surprisingly Prince Derek was one of them, and the soldiers would be in actual armor this time. Scott seemed to think that this peace talk would actually succeed, since the king’s father and sister, who had orchestrated the attack during the original one, had been executed.

Stiles was walking to the market to buy some ingredients when he saw a group of villagers gossiping excitedly and staring in shock and wonder as a large processional made their way into the village. They all bowed or curtsied as a long line of armored soldiers riding two by two on horseback in front of a large carriage with a triskelion printed on the side.

“It’s the royal family!”

“They must be coming through from the peace talks!”

“Oh, how exciting!”

Stiles froze in shock. 

One of the men on horseback dismounted and removed his helmet. Stiles gasped as he recognized Prince Derek. He looked much more like the man in the drawing that Scott had shown him. His hair was slightly mussed from the helmet upon his head, and he was dirty from the roads, but his eyes shone, especially when he recognized him.

He strode over to Stiles and embraced him. It took a few moments for Stiles to get over his shock and wrap his arms around Derek as well. “I can’t believe you’re here again. I thought I would never see you again.”

Derek squeezed him tighter. “I didn’t think I’d be able to see you again, either.” He cleared his throat and looked nervously at Stiles. “I need to tell you something about who I really am, something I should have told you before I left. I am…”

Stiles put a hand on his arm to interrupt him. “If it is about being the prince, I already know.”

Derek’s eyes widened. “How?”

“My friend, Scott McCall, is training as one of your wolfy border soldiers. He was searching for you, and he showed me a drawing of you. I recognized those beautiful eyes of yours at once.” He blushed at that last statement, but it was the truth.

Before Derek could respond, the carriage opened and two young dark-haired women rushed out to where Derek and Stiles stood. “So, Derek,” one of them said with a devilish grin. “Is this the one you’re in love with?”

“Cora!” Derek actually had a blush on his face. Stiles thought it was cute.

“Oh, don’t mind her,” the other woman, who seemed to be older, told Stiles. “She loves to tease!”

“And you don’t?” Derek asked with a raised eyebrow. Stiles didn’t realize how much he missed those expressive and bushy eyebrows.

The woman in question shrugged with a grin, then turned to Stiles. “Anyways, I’m Laura, Derek’s big sister, and that’s Cora, his younger sister.”

Stiles gulped, then bowed down quickly as he remembered his manners. “You‘re princesses, aren‘t you? I should have bowed to you already! But wait, I never bowed to your brother in all the time I knew h-!”

Before he could babble any further, Derek swooped in and kissed him soundly on the mouth. Stiles looked dazed but elated.

An older woman with the same long dark hair as the royal siblings descended the steps. Even without the large crown on her head, she looked regal in an elegant but simple dress suitable for travel. “That’s my mother, Queen Talia,” Derek whispered in Stiles’ ear.

“Such a pleasure to meet the one who caught my son‘s eye!” The Queen smiled.

Stiles bowed again. “Thank you, your majesty. But…” He looked uncertainly at Derek as his worries resurfaced. “How could we ever be together? I’m just a commoner. I’m not worth you.”

Talia answered instead of Derek, “Royal family members are allowed to marry whomever they want. My own brother married a tavern maid who he’d been visiting for years.”

“It’s true,” Derek said. “I feared we couldn’t be together as well, but my mother let me know that wasn’t so.”

Stiles smiled shyly. “So does that mean I’m really going to get to learn all about you?”

“Everything."

**********

Stiles wasn’t ready to move to the Capital just yet, so he and Derek wrote to each other constantly. Derek shared everything with Stiles, included what had happened to him when he had been injured. The King of Argentum’s father and sister had sabotaged the peace talks and attacked Derek and the soldiers he’d brought with them with arrows coated in wolfsbane. However, his daughter, Princess Allison, had been hiding and was disgusted by her grandfather and aunt’s treachery. She had been the one to put the wolfsbane flowers in a pouch around his neck. She had run back to the nearest city in Argentum to get some flint to counteract the wolfsbane herself, but Derek had woken up and stumbled off before she had returned. Stiles actually started a correspondence with the princess to thank her. Derek was amused and touched by that. They fell more and more in love with each other with every letter.

By the time a year had passed, Stiles was ready to move to the Capital and marry Derek. He had been reluctant to leave without his father, so John decided to retire in the Capital. Stiles was secretly thrilled. His father was getting on in years and Stiles would be much happier knowing his father wouldn’t be putting himself in danger anymore. Melissa decided to go along with them so she could see her son. Since all of his loved ones were coming to the Capital, Scott decided to remain there as well, joining Isaac as one of Derek‘s loyal soldiers.

Derek and Stiles were wed in a beautiful outdoor ceremony overlooking the Preserve. Stiles still hadn’t gotten used to the fine attire he was expected to wear as the prince’s future consort. The discomfort he felt was well worth it, though, to see Derek at the end of the aisle in his suit, accentuating his powerful build.

Later as the couple danced in each other’s arms at the lavish reception thrown for them at the palace, Stiles murmured in his new husband’s ear, “Mieczyslaw.”

Derek blinked and shook his head as if breaking out of a trance, then looked questioningly at Stiles. Stiles was inwardly giddy at that that dancing with a simple man like himself could cause a handsome royal to lose himself so much.

“That’s my name,” Stiles clarified. “But still please call me Stiles.”

“Alright,” Derek smiled as he leaned forward to rest his forehead on Stiles’. “But you must still teach me how to say your name properly. Something special between you and I.”

A smile grew over Stiles’ face. “Okay.” His smile turned mischievous. “So can I still call you Miguel?”

“No.” Derek smirked.

The laughter of the two rang out that night, and it was a frequent sound throughout their very long and happy marriage.

**Author's Note:**

> How could I resist calling amnesiac Derek "Miguel"? XD However, my husband's name is also Miguel, so writing those parts was kind of weird!
> 
> There was actually going to be a non-explicit sex scene the night before "Miguel" left, but with Derek being amnesiac, it would have been dubious consent, so I chose to just have them kiss and sleep together instead.
> 
> I had considered having some scenes from Derek's perspective , like Derek going home to his family and missing Stiles and the second peace talk where Derek would get to talk to Allison, but I ended up having everything except the first scene entirely from Stiles' perspective.
> 
> The palace psychic was meant to be Lydia.
> 
> If I've missed any tags, please let me know!
> 
> Come visit me on my [Tumblr](http://stacinadia.tumblr.com/)!


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